


Failing Sanity

by NyxEclipse



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Being Lancer is suffering, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, M/M, Necrophilia, Original Character Death(s), Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 20:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13865289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEclipse/pseuds/NyxEclipse
Summary: There are good grail wars and there are bad ones. Well, mostly bad wars if history has anything to say about it.The bad ones tend not end very nicely for everyone. (Unless you are not in your right mind.)------Something is terribly wrong. But for the life of him, he can’t figure out what.





	Failing Sanity

Arjuna is fighting in another Holy Grail War. 

He has a superb master which makes their victory almost guaranteed right from the beginning. The other servants have all been defeated, leaving just one last enemy for them to overcome. They meet for their final battle at an abandoned church in the middle of a desolate wasteland. The once holy sanctuary has become nothing but a desecrated shadow of itself, given its dilapidated state and the ominous shadows that seep from its every crevice. Standing proudly on the altar at the far end of the church is the coveted, wish granting grail.

“...”

The wooden floor cracks under the force of his hand.

A lifetime ago, before he wielded any of his famed weapons, he was but a simple boy. He was a simple child who admired the might of his father and aspired to be like him. Together with his many brothers, they would train together in combat. Their hand to hand combat training would often dissolve into senseless wresting on the ground the moment he was involved. Laughing at the dishevelled and dirt covered look of his elder brother, he remembers slamming his hands to the ground to cage his brother in an attempt of intimidation.

Suffice to say, his attempt was in vain. His small body was easily flipped off to land on the ground in an ungracious heap. Pouting petulantly at smiling visage of his family, the young Arjuna would struggle to his feet and attempt to tackle his brother to the ground again. 

Those were good fun times.

“…”

There is the distinct sound of wet squelching material.

Some of his hunting trips went well. Others, not so much. Occasionally, he would join his brothers in hunting competitions in the nearby forests that their family tended to. 

One trip in particular had not been very kind to him. The stupid boar that he had been chasing for the past hour mysteriously managed to dodge all the arrows he shot. Well, maybe it had something to do with his recently sprained wrist. His mother had insisted that he stay out of the competition but he had argued he was fine.

Which led to his current sorry state: drenched in the rain with a throbbing wrist and unable to hunt a single animal. The shame of returning home empty handed kept him from returning. Arjuna trudged through the muddy ground and attempted to look for some form of shelter. In a stroke of bad luck, he slipped and landed in a shallow stream. To add to his misery, he was now very muddy, very wet and very pissed. The uncomfortable sensation of his soaking wet clothes only increased as he pulled himself out of the stream. His boots made squelching noises with each step he took away from the muddy bank. Perhaps, it was time to bite the bullet and head home. 

 “…”

He can taste sweet blood in his mouth.

There was once during his scuffle with some other children, Arjuna had taken a punch to his face. The force behind it had been hard enough to crack his nose and send blood dripping steadily from it. He remembers being horrified by the obvious injury. His mother had never approved of him sneaking out of the palace to mingle with the common children. A broken nose would practically scream to the world his disobedience. 

The dripping blood had been flowing from his nose for a while now and the sensation as it ran over his mouth was rather ticklish. While making his way back home and trying to think of a suitable explanation for his sorry state, the raven absentmindedly licked his blood stained lips. His blood tasted like salt and metal, not a very appealing combination. 

 “…”

The heavy stench of blood is all around him.

War is a good place to smell blood. 

During some of the fiercer battles he had fought in, he could literally bathe himself in blood from the sheer amount that was spilt. His fight against his hated brother was a good example. That day, so much blood had been spilt that it had literally perfumed the air with its smell several days after the battle’s conclusion. At least the conclusion to that fight had been rather satisfying even if it did leave a sour aftertaste in his mouth. Why did he feel like the villain despite winning the war and slaying his brother that had clearly wronged him?

“…”

The faint sound of flesh slapping against flesh tickles his ears.

Of course, as a prince he was no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh. He had bedded a great number of women in his lifetime. Some, he allowed to become his wives. Others, he paid them a small sum and then bade them farewell. If he was feeling particularly adventurous, he would seek a male to lie with. His preferences had always leaned towards partners with slight builds and beautiful blue eyes. White hair was hard to come by and red eyes even more so. He always wondered why such combinations would never fail to excite him more than ever. 

“...?”

He catches a glimpse of black material and white hair.

Ah.

Wasn’t he in a fight with somebody?

For the first time in a long while, Arjuna opens his eyes and  _sees_.

Karna, his brother, lies completely still in a crater before him. The wooden floor of the church that he lies on has been splintered into smithereens by the impact of their landing. A large amount of still rapidly cooling blood surrounds them even as it is slowly being absorbed by aged wood. The rows of pews that flank them are in various states of disarray. Some are splattered generously with blood and flesh and crushed by errant debris, while others stand neigh untouched save for a few scratches. The roof of the church has a large hole in it. He can only assume that it how they entered the building in the first place. 

He looks on with morbid fascination at gaping hole in his brother’s chest that mirrors the one in the roof. The white bones of his ribs are cracked open and some broken pieces lie scattered on the ground. Pale pink lungs are still and mostly blood drenched. Blood must have once poured endlessly from the gaping cavity to give rise to their blood slicked surroundings. Now however, it has slowed to a mere trickle. Curiously enough, Karna’s heart is missing. The blood vessels that were once attached to it look badly damaged, as though someone carelessly tore his heart out. 

It was as though a savage, unhinged beast had made quick work of his brother before stopping to rip out his heart.

He then notices the smaller details. What little colour Karna’s face once held is replaced by bleach white and his eyes are closed. Tear tracks run visibly down his cheeks and extend to connect with the blood that drips from parted lips. His treasured golden amour is gone, leaving his body vulnerable to damage. The black bodysuit that usually covers his body is mostly ripped and frayed at the ends, revealing chalk white skin where cuts and bruises bloom. Multiple familiar arrows dot his body. A number go through his stomach while others pierce his legs. His arms are spread to the side and going through each palm is a single arrow. 

Arjuna trembles at the sight. Such a look…

...a fitting pathetic look for his hated brother. 

He himself is in a relatively better state. Aside from the blood-soaked clothes and few minor cuts and bruises, the most prominent injury he sustains is probably the blow to the side of his head. The liquid that dips down his face blurs his vision somewhat, but is not enough to take his eyes off his brother. 

He has no idea where the other servant’s master is. He might be that bloody smear on the left wall for all he knows, not that it really matters. 

Mouth unconsciously widening into a smile, he realises that he has something lodged in it. He spits the chewy object into his hand and stares for a long while. 

So, the taste of blood in his mouth had been real after all.

To his side lies a bloody heart with its front half missing. What looks like bite marks are carved deeply into it. 

While his own blood might have tasted terrible, Karna’s tastes wonderful. 

Shifting a little to observe Karna’s neck that is missing his usual choker and decorated with hand shaped bruises, he finds his movement strangely impeded. Eyes travelling down his brother’s red stained torso, he realises, to his mild surprise, that he is buried deeply inside the other. Experimentally, he pulls out a little before pushing back in. The slow motion sends sinful pleasure crawling up his spine and he lets out a moan of sheer ecstasy. Placing his hands firmly on bruised hips, Arjuna thrusts rapidly to bring himself to completion. All thought leaves his mind as he focuses on nothing but the intense pleasure that fills his being. His brother’s walls are slippery with blood and still somewhat tight, though the archer knows that he has to hurry before Karna loosens up completely. 

Eventually, he comes with a low moan and hunches over the prone body bellow him. The thrusting might have helped him reach his release, but what truly made him come undone was the feeling of Karna’s lungs being crushed under his cruel fingers. The sight alone of the pulpy mess he had rendered them was almost enough to make him hard again. In a moment of impulse, he yanks out the numerous arrows that pin the body to the ground. The violent action rips apart already ruined flesh and what little blood left in his body oozes out of the newly inflicted wounds. The archer then lifts his brother into a mocking imitation of an embrace. Using one hand to support the slight body, his other cups Karna’s cold cheeks. He brings their faces together, just enough for their lips to brush.  He never noticed it before, but his brother has really long eyelashes. 

“Stop it Archer! Please! He’s already dead!” a voice bordering on hysteria interrupts his thoughts. 

He turns to face his annoying master and sees her standing a fair distance away. Behind her is the arched entrance of the church where the dying rays of the sun illuminate her trembling figure. Tears and snot run down her face which shows a cross between shock and disgust. It is an ugly combination that brings a frown to his face. 

Stop? Whatever did she mean? As the Awarded Hero, it is only right for him to triumph over his enemy. Karna is finally in his rightful place beneath him in a humiliating state with the pretty red that decorates him.

Seeing her servant refusing to acknowledge her order, the trembling master issues her command again, only this time with the heavy weight of her last command seal behind it.

The mutilated corpse of his brother falls from his arms and Arjuna growls in pure anger. How dare she. HOW DARE SHE!? Karna was his to own! Who was she to come between them?

“Annoying, isn’t she?” 

Standing beside his wretched master is a shadowy figure. It has a rough, humanoid shape and looks like…him? 

Made up purely from a gooey black substance, the rough looking blob eventually takes on a more defined shape. The person it takes after is undoubtedly himself. They grow more and more alike as the seconds tick by. The only difference ultimately, would be the blatant madness that shines within the black eyes of his doppelganger. Or maybe, that madness was always there, just better hidden in himself. 

“Oh, but I almost forgot. I suppose I should be congratulating you.  After all, you have just won the Holy Grail War.”

Clearly, he is the only one who can hear its words, considering how his master fails to react in any manner. Arjuna is itching to pick up the limp form of his brother. Already, the white haired male is fading away, the edges of his body breaking into countless particles and dissipating into the air. However, the command seal stops him. His master is refusing to look his way and slowly takes small steps to put distance between them. Her fear is palpable; he can practically see it radiating off her.

His doppelganger motions to his rapidly backpaddling master. “Surely such a meddlesome woman will get in the way of your wish? I suggest nipping the problem in the bud.”

Arjuna considers this for a moment and silently agrees. He schools his expression into one befitting a prince and tidies himself into a more presentable manner. At least, he tries. It is quite difficult to look presentable with blood and innards staining your clothes.

Smiling charmingly at his terrified master, he assures her in a calm voice, “I apologise master. It appears I might have gotten…a little carried away.” 

The combination of his expression and forced sense of calm must have worked somewhat for the girl stops backing away. The weariness never leaves her eyes however, and she seems to tense up even more as he approaches. The archer does not need her to be relaxed though. Their close proximity is more than enough. 

“Ar-“ she barely manages to open her mouth before a pair of hands wrap round her neck. Faster than she could comprehend, the light fades from her eyes as her head is neatly plucked off its neck, as though picking a mere grape off its vine. Arjuna on the other hand, looks on with disinterest as he drops the limp body and tosses the head of the woman carelessly in a random direction. Blood spurts messily from the now headless body, spraying the already blood drenched floor with more sticky red. Now with that obstacle out of the way, all that is left is to make his wish. He does still get his wish, right?

“Of course,” his counterpart affirms. “Now, what will you wish for?”

His wish is obvious. They both know this fact, yet his counterpart seems to derive some sort of pleasure from listening to him admit it out loud. What purpose this admission of his serves is lost on him. 

“Eternal solitude,” he utters, the words echoing in the empty interior of the church. 

The doppelganger raises a brow. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Of course. How could he forget?

“Eternal solitude with my dear brother. An eternality to fight and hate each other.”

An eternity of senseless destruction and loathing.

“That’s more like it.”

The grin on his counterpart’s face is so wide it actually splits his face apart. The top half of grail Arjuna’s head falls due to the split and turns back into black gooey mass. The remaining parts of its body start to melt like chocolate left under the sun for too long. The grail that sits smugly on its oddly ornate altar pours out more of the black mud to join the melting Arjuna in an undulating sweeping wave. 

As the black mud approaches him and his brother, Arjuna cannot help but feel a sense of unease. Something is terribly wrong. But for the life of him, he can’t figure out what. It occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, he should not be doing this.

He holds the fragile body of his brother that has stopped disappearing. If he listens carefully, he can just about make out faint breathing. How such a feat is possible with his pulverised lungs is irrelevant. Ruined flesh is slowly knitting itself back together and blood once again flows through his veins. Glazed red and blue eyes flicker open and find coal black ones. They take in their surroundings for a moment before slipping shut again.

But, that brief moment was enough for Arjuna to see the emotions that had flashed rapidly through them.

Shock. 

Despair.

Resignation.

Slightly disappointed that his brother did not look at him longer, Arjuna thinks that maybe, just maybe, nothing was wrong after all. For what was this if not perfection, a complete materialisation of all he had ever wanted?

The swirling mess of chaotic black rises to a crescendo before enveloping everything. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

In another Grail War,

Two brothers face off once more.

But something is wrong

A mournful song.

One loses grip on reality,

Trapped in endless hate for eternity.

The other naught but a slave to fate

And thus, slips into a pathetic state.

The hilarious end of two brothers,

Just the same like all others.

**Author's Note:**

> Since I am a sticker for tradition, I decided to give Karna the tragic ending all Lancers rightfully deserve. His death in Apocrypha was a little too happy for my tastes, although the saltiness levels could be argued. That said, please don't kill me for this. You can blame crazy Arjuna on the grail ok? I really do love Karna. He's such a sweetheart honestly.


End file.
